


Just to Have You

by luzlicious (Miss_Marigold)



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: 1950s!AU, Blow Jobs, Car Hookups, Leather Jackets, Light Angst, M/M, Milkshakes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sexual Tension, greaser!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:14:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9826031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Marigold/pseuds/luzlicious
Summary: The lot by the junkyard, stealing milkshakes at the diner, the loaded glances at the drive-in. It wasn’t much, but it was theirs, and they were desperate to have it for as long as they could.For Band of Brothers Week, Day One: AUs





	

Every day after school, Joe Toye could be found in the auto-shop, tending to his beat-up old car. Mr. Sink had trusted him with the keys long ago; Joe often stayed until dinner time, while the rest of the guys went off on their own business. The quiet was soothing, just him and his car.

 

“What do we have here?” Any chance of a quiet afternoon disappeared out the window as George made his way through the door.

 

Joe made a gesture with his hand. “Seeing as I’m in the garage, you can probably bet that I’m working on my car.”

 

“No need to be sharp, Joseph.” George made a tutting sound with his tongue. “Here I am to offer my help, and you’re being rude!”

 

“Pretty sure we all know how much of a help you are with cars,” Joe scoffed.

 

“I know what tools look like, I can hand ‘em to ya.”

 

“With the tradeoff being that I have to listen to your yapping.”

 

“‘Course it would,” George said. “But this is juicy.” His voice hung at the end, dripping with the promise of salacious details.

 

“Grab me the allen wrench,” Joe sighed, turning back to the car in acquiescence.

 

“Coming right up! Which one is that again?” A look from Joe quickly had George backpedaling. “Kidding, kidding!”

 

George wasn’t actually quite as hopeless with cars as the rest of the guys made him out to be, but he never corrected it. Might as well let the rest of them get greasy in shop class as he sat in the car instead. Handing over the correct wrench, he propped a hip against the side of the car.

 

“So?” Joe prompted. “What’s the story?”

 

George grinned, leaning an elbow on the windshield. “You know how Shirley kept coming onto me at Bill’s party?”

 

“Think I remember you hanging around with a tart, yeah.”

 

“Hey, Shirley’s a perfectly nice gal!”

 

“Nice, as in nice and easy,” Joe added, rolling his eyes.

 

“Well, you know, I don’t really mind when it works in my favor.”

 

“You’re not telling me that Shirley actually let ya fuck her?” Joe challenged. George’s game was notoriously weak. Despite the polished lines that lured the broads in, he was known for being unable to seal the deal. Too much yammering.

 

“That’s exactly what I’m telling ya,” George said. His chest was a bit puffed out with arms folded across, pulling the leather of his jacket tight against his biceps. “Yesterday I walked her home from cheer practice and then she thanked me properly before her parents got home from work.”

 

If Joe thrust the wrench back towards George with a little more force than necessary, neither mentioned it. “Good for you,” he said grudgingly.

 

“Right?” George smiled. “I swear, her tits are even better than they look in that cheer uniform. All bouncy and firm and shit.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“And her waist, I swear I can fit both hands around it, it’s so small!”

 

“Great.”

 

“And those _noises_ she made, damn, that girl is wild.”

 

“I get the picture, George. She was a great lay. I said good for you, now shut up and hand me the socket wrench.”

 

George held up his hands in surrender, eyes brimming with mirth as he fetched the tool.

 

“That’s not a very nice tone you got there, Joe.” George teased. “Better be nice to me, otherwise I’m not gonna offer to help again.”

 

“You aren’t even helping, just beat it,” Joe muttered, bent under the hood of the car.

 

George frowned a bit, but decided to keep pushing. “C’mon, I gotta tell somebody about it. Hell, she’s the one who propositioned me! Lead me right up to her bedroom door, started stripping right in the hallway!” His voice carried tones of amazement. “Standing there in matching white lingerie, straight out of some pin-up magazine! And then when she took it off--”

 

“Will you shut the hell up already? I get it, you got laid!” Joe yelled, voice raised in frustration. His hands slammed against the edge of the car as he removed himself from under the hood. George startled, but a cheshire cat grin quickly replaced the shocked expression.

 

“You’re just fucking jealous!” George crowed. “What, Patty isn’t giving it up, is she? All that pent up sexual frustration, you gotta take it out on me when I’m actually getting some?”

 

“Fuck you!” Joe yelled, fist clenching at his side as his eyes burned.

 

George raised an eyebrow mockingly, lips quirking up. “Ok.” He stepped closer, crowding into Joe’s space. The air was charged with something, but not the usual anger that premeditated flying fists. Instead it seemed like a spark, like something was trying to catch aflame.

 

It took a second for Joe to process, to realize that he wouldn’t be getting the fight he’d be thinking of.

 

Joe surged against him, claiming George’s lip in a tangle of lips and teeth. The force of the movement propelled them both backwards, pushed George against the wall. One of Joe’s hands was clenched against the lapel of George’s leather jacket, the other clutching harshly, desperately, at the junction where George’s neck met his shoulder. Pressed against the wall, George felt as though he was melting, fusing to the solid concrete behind him as Joe kept pushing with the force of a rushing tide.

 

This _was_ a fight, but instead it was a fight of will, of proving something that had been bubbling between them for the last few months. Between open-mouthed kisses came bites at each other’s lower lips, dragging them back and forth between their teeth.

 

Luz hooked a leg around the back of Joe’s calf, one hand grasping at Joe’s hip, fingers twisted into the belt loop of his pants, the other working its way through Joe’s hair. It felt as though time had sped up and slowed down all at once. George could feel each movement so distinctly, his brain overloaded with the sensations of Joe’s touch. But far too quickly, their kisses slowed down.

 

Joe pulled back a few inches, but didn’t release his hold. His dark eyes roamed over Luz’s face, searching for something. George hoped he found it.

 

“What the fuck are we gettin’ ourselves into?” He finally spoke, voice still rough with lust. He let a hand move to George’s hair, gently combing through the product instead of tugging at it like George had to Joe’s. A touch filled with intimacy, filled with something George wasn’t sure he had a name for.

 

“Hey, don’t overthink it,” George whispered, leaning back slightly against the wall, unhooking his leg in the process. “This doesn’t have to be anything more than what this is.”

 

Joe looked as though he didn’t believe him, mouth twisted a bit.

 

“I’m serious,” George said. “These past few months, this weird game of pulling pigtails, it’s stupid. I _want_ you,” his voice going breathy at the end. “And guessing by the last few minutes, you want me too.” The hand he had in Joe’s hair trailed down along the very edge of his face, resting lightly at the his shoulder. “So let’s just let ourselves have this.”

 

He leaned forward, using the wall slightly as leverage to push up and against Joe as he slotted their lips back together. Any hesitation Joe had been experiencing vanished, his hands instantly cluing back into the program, roving over George’s body.

 

 

 

The streetlamps illuminated the parking lot of the ice creamery, highlighting the giant swirly cone on top of the establishment. The lot was littered with teenagers, a hot spot for Friday night meet-ups before couples eventually split off down Lover’s Lane a few miles away.

 

One of the gaggles of young adults was comprised of the E-Bird men and their female companions, crowded together on a few picnic tables in the grass.

 

Luz was perched on the edge of the table, using the painted surface as a seat instead of the bench next to his gal for the evening, Betty. Mirroring the pose, Joe sat on an opposite table, although he was paying nominally more attention to Patsy. George knew at this rate Betty wasn’t gonna be very pleased, but he wasn’t overly concerned. He’d bought her her dumb banana milkshake to share, which was disgusting, he’d done his part.

 

Joe’s date had passed on the milkshake, insisting on water as she watched her figure. Lucky Joe got a milkshake all to himself. George should remedy that.

 

“Hey, Joe, gimme some of that.” He whined, making grabby hands at the glass.

 

“You can have some of mine, if you want?” Betty offered, overly eager. George tried to spare a half-smile, but it wasn’t effective judging by the drop in Betty’s shoulders.

 

“Nah, I bought it for you, I’ll let you enjoy it.” George said. “Joe, on the other hand, deserves no such consideration.”

 

Joe rolled his eyes, but held out the milkshake in surrender.

 

 

 

The abandoned lot near the town dump may not be Lover’s Lane, but it would serve their purpose. The underlying stench of rotting food kept any prying eyes away, and the guard dogs prevented any adventurous pedestrians from venturing too close.

 

Joe’s car was at least functional now, after many hours working on it in shop class. Joe was still debating which paint color, so for now it remained a dingy clementine color. George was advocating for red with flames, although the currently leading option was a dark blue with white racing stripes. The interior also required some attention, and Joe was planning on reupholstering the entire thing in black leather. For now, a cheap vinyl was peeling off the seats.

 

The windows were cracked as the pair smoked, cigarettes lazily pinched between their fingers. Despite this, a light haze of smoke circulated inside the car, layering a translucent film over them.

 

“Dunno why we don’t come here more often. So scenic.” George observed between drags.

 

Joe’s eyes remained shut, head tilted back against the headrest.

 

“Really, the sounds of rats mating just does it for me, ya know?”

 

“Ain’t like we got any other options.”

 

“I know, ‘m just sayin’,” George grumbled. He tapped the ash end out the window, sucking the cigarette down to the very last centimeters of usable tobacco. The remainder was flicked out the window to smolder out in the gravel.

 

“My cigarette ’s out.”

 

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

 

“Sharing is caring.”

 

Joe took in a long drag, holding the smoke behind his lips, clasping a hand around the back of Luz’s neck to pull their mouths together. The smoke released between their lips, the nicotine high nothing in comparison with the high that came from each other’s taste.

 

They lazily traded kisses back and forth as they smoked the cigarette together. So distracted by George’s mouth, Joe didn’t even notice how low it had gotten until the burning reached his fingers, causing him to drop the cigarette and ash on his jeans. With a curse he hopped out of the car, brushing the ash off his jeans to prevent a stain.

 

Snickering in the front seat George’s amusement made it a little bit better. Nevertheless, Joe grumbled as he got back in.

 

“Fuckin’ distraction, that’s what you are.”

 

“But a pretty distraction.” George fluttered his eyes a bit.

 

“The prettiest.” Joe grumbled, voice coming from a place deep in his chest. He reached over to grab at George’s hips, pulling him closer to the middle of the shared front seat. His lips eagerly reattached to his target, hands gripping so hard that George was sure he’d have a hint of bruising the next day.

 

Letting his lips trail down George’s neck, Joe’s teeth grazed over the muscles, pressing lightly. He dropped a few open mouthed kisses to the spot before pulling back a matter of millimeters, breath ghosting over the wet patch of skin. George felt the goosebumps breaking out as he repressed a delighted shiver.

 

The mouth returned, although the pressure of teeth had increased a bit. In the opposite direction, Joe’s hand had traveled south, palming over the crotch of George’s jeans. He pressed down with the heel of his hand before petting over him through his jeans.

 

“No marks,” George gasped out, trying to remain a semblance of clear-headed thought.

 

Joe bit down lightly and George’s hips bucked up involuntarily. “You sure about that?”

 

“Joe.” George’s eyes blinked open, hand clenching in Joe’s shirt. Meanwhile, Joe managed to unzip George’s jeans, allowing him a little more contact with George’s cock. He let his fingertips trail over the fabric, teasing George oh so cruelly.

 

“No, no, your turn,” George insisted. He reached for Joe’s jeans, undoing them in record time and pushing them down a bit.

 

More bold, George reached directly into Joe’s briefs, pulling him out and stroking him to firmness. Thick in all the right ways, George couldn’t help but ogle. Compared to a dame, Joe was all hardness, all roughness, broad in a way that a girl could never be. The eager reactions that a coy gal would never make, reactions that reverberated straight to George’s cock.

 

His first time with his hands on a real dick, George fumbled for a moment.

 

“Just do what you’d want a gal to do to you.” Joe advised.

 

Shutting him up with a kiss, George gathered up his resolved before grasping Joe firmly. Smeared precome provided some lubrication as George tested a few slow, long strokes. Their mouths sped up in time with the pace of George’s hand, and George felt heady with knowing that he was the reason Joe was so worked up.

 

A bright idea popped into his head, and he withdrew his hand. Joe whined at the loss but shut himself up quickly when he realized the noise he’d made.

 

“You’re doing fine, why you stoppin’?”

 

“I’ve got an idea.”

 

“No need to get creative, you’re getting the job done just fine.”

 

“I think you’ll like this one.” George leaned in to steal a quick peck on the lips before scooching away from Joe for a moment. The wounded look in Joe’s eyes quickly disappeared as George leaned down to eye-level with Joe’s cock.

 

Joe gulped audibly. “You know you don’t have to--”

 

A lick along the side of his dick shut him up quickly. Luz looked up through his eyelashes, and Joe’s dick jumped at the sight. Like some debauched sort of kitten, George tentatively licked along the shaft, sparing a lick or two for Joe’s neglected balls.

 

Joe was a bit unsure of what to do with his hands in the position they were in; he ended up settling one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting lightly between George’s shoulder blades. He toyed at the hem of George’s collar, stroking his fingers over the back of his neck.

 

As great as this was, George wasn’t really doing the whole blowing part of a blow-job, and Joe was pretty sure he wasn’t gonna be able to come just from a handful of gentle licks. He was about to speak up, reassure George that this wasn’t really necessary, when George suddenly engulfed Joe’s cock with his mouth.

 

“Christ!” Joe couldn’t help but buck his hips upwards, causing George to pull off with a splutter.

 

“Keep still!” George ordered, heading back down to Joe’s crotch.

 

“Some warning, and I would!”

 

“Ok, Joe, I’m about to suck your dick, please don’t try and suffocate me with your cock. That work?”

 

Joe pressed firmly on George’s neck in response, and George allowed himself to be pushed towards Joe’s dick.

 

“Now I’m going to lick the--”

 

“Ok, I get the picture, please, George--” Joe’s voiced desperately as George licked the underside of the head before lowering his mouth down onto Joe’s dick.

 

While George may not’ve been as technically proficient as Patsy or any of the other girls who’d gone down on Joe, he more than made up for it in enthusiasm. One hand twisted at the base while the other gently rolled Joe’s balls back and forth in a delightful rhythm.

 

Occasionally a hint of teeth glanced across Joe’s shaft, but he fought down the flinch, not wanting to discourage George. Mostly focused on the task at hand, George didn’t spare a look upwards, thus unable to see the look of adoration that flitted across Joe’s face.

Joe didn’t know if he had the courage that George had. Hell, Joe would have just glared at George and Shirley forever if he was left to his own devices. Instead, he had a gorgeous boy eagerly blowing him.

 

He was struck with the similarity of George sucking down a milkshake and sucking down his cock; the enthusiasm, the technique, the way George hollowed out his cheeks. His mind was unable to focus on any single thought too completely with the swirl of feelings coursing through his body. He wasn’t sure he’d ever tell George about that comparison; it’d probably only encourage George to make milkshakes even more sexual.

 

“Fuck, Georgie, so good,” Joe encouraged, hand moving tentatively to George’s hair. George hummed appreciatively, whether from the compliment or from the hair-touching, Joe didn’t know.

 

The humming around his dick only increased the sensations, and Christ, Joe was close.  He let his hand grip tighter in George’s hair, savoring the softness.

 

“‘M close.” George made no sign of moving off Joe’s dick.

 

“Really, you don’t have to,” Joe insisted. All the other girls had absolutely refused to swallow, and Joe was a gentleman who respected that. As long as the end goal was reached, Joe was pretty amenable to the _how_.

 

George popped off for a moment. “I appreciate the thought, but I’m gonna finish the job.”

 

He moved back to Joe’s dick, speeding up with the knowledge that Joe’s release was imminent.

 

“George, Georgie, _fuck_ , you’re amazing.”

 

If it was possible to grin around a dick, George would be doing it.

 

As Joe neared the edge, he clenched his eyes shut as his orgasm coursed through him. George swallowed it all easily enough, licking up any spillage on Joe’s dick.

 

When George raised his head back up, the confident smile was betrayed by the hesitation in his eyes.

 

“That alright?” His voice wavered, uncertainty showing through it.

 

“Perfect, Georgie,” Joe let a hand trail across the side of George’s face, thumb sweeping over his cheekbone. Their lips connected in a gentle kiss, a slow movement of mouths pressed against one another. Most of the time, their kisses were as rough as they were. A display of strength, of passion, taking everything but promising nothing. Seizing the few moments they had, time became an extremely limited commodity. At least in Joe’s old car, in this shitty old lot, they could let themselves slow it down. Let their touches speak of something more than lust.

 

They both knew better than to make promises. They couldn’t promise faithfulness; they both had dames they had to please. They couldn’t promise forever; not when they both knew how unrealistic it was. The only real promise they could keep was to savor these moments, to crystallize them in their minds. One day, they’d both have to marry their women, pop out a kid or two, the whole song and dance.

 

But for now, they could have this. The lot by the junkyard, stealing milkshakes at the diner, the loaded glances at the drive-in. It wasn’t much, but it was theirs, and they were desperate to have it for as long as they could.

 

“Now,” Joe started. “We’ve got two more hours before Ma will start naggin’. How ‘bout you let me return the favor and then we go lay out on that hill over there.”

 

“Stargazing? Didn’t have you pegged as such a romantic, Toye!”

 

“I can be plenty romantic, thank you very much.” Joe huffed, eyebrows furrowing.

 

George smiled, carding a hand through Joe’s hair. “Sure you are.”

 

“Just you watch. I’m gonna blow you so romantically.”

 

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

 

With the gauntlet thrown down, Joe was ready to embrace the challenge.

 

“I’m gonna take you apart, Georgie. Gonna make you beg for it, know you will.” Joe’s hands trailed along George’s sides, moving underneath the thin t-shirt to rove across the planes of George’s skin. “‘M gonna take my time, unraveling you.”

 

“Promises, promises.”

 

“Oh just you wait, babe.” Fingers tweaked at a pebbled nipple. “I’m gonna take you apart with my hands, with my mouth.” Lips ghosted over the side of George’s neck. “Gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

 

“Christ, Joe, your mouth is filthy.”

 

“Not hearing you complainin’.”

 

“How about you put that mouth to use on my cock?”

 

Joe smiled into George’s neck, pressing a light kiss there. He rucked the collar of the shirt aside, giving him access to George’s collarbone. His tongue ran across it first, before quickly being followed by the sharp nip of teeth, bold in a way that he hadn’t been when he’d been targeting George’s neck.

 

“Can’t rush perfection. Now I don’t want to hear any more words out of that pretty mouth except for my name, understand?”

 

“Joe,” George’s eyes widened a bit as he gasped out his name.

 

“See, now you’re gettin’ it.”

 

 

 

Pulled into Joe’s side, George let his hand trail back and forth over Joe’s chest. The cold grass beneath them wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it would do. The stars were more visible out here, less light to pollute their majesty.

 

“Wish we could do this more,” Joe said longingly. “Wish that Patsy and Betsy would find some other dudes. Wish that no one would ever be the wiser, that we could just keep at this for as long as we can.”

 

George’s hand stilled over Joe’s heart. “‘S no use to talk like that, Joe.”

 

“I know, but I’ve gotta say it, Georgie. I’m so good most all the time; I don’t push, I know what the situation is. But out here, with you, I’m letting myself want it, imagine it.” The hand at George’s waist clenched tighter. “Just let me have this moment, alright?”

 

Usually never this quiet, George just couldn’t find the right words. Nothing he’d say could change the predicament they were in.

 

“Have as many moments as you like, Joe.”

  


 

They ended up staying out far past curfew, neither wanting to break the scene. The longer they pushed off reality, the longer they could pretend that their time together was limitless.

 

George told his Ma that he lost track of time with the boys, and Joe repeated the same.

 

For now, this imperfect system would have to suffice. Until the next time they could sneak off, the stolen glances or brushes of arms against each other would have to tide them over.

 

It would do for now.

**Author's Note:**

> So that was my very first time writing anything more than a make-out sesh, so I hope it wasn't entirely too contrite and cheesy. 
> 
> Basically I just kept imagining George and Joe in leather jackets, sneaking these moments, savoring them with the knowledge that it can't last forever. So, light angst. I kind of wanted to focus on this nihilistic "live in the moment" vibe.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! Day One of BoB week is complete! Check me out @luzlicious on tumblr!


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